Just Keep Denying It
by aria96
Summary: MarkCollins. Mark doesn't want to admit he's gay. PreRENT.
1. Meeting

Mark Cohen sat in the chorus room at his school on a February morning, reading. It was particularly cloudy and gloomy, and so was Mark. He was the only one in the classroom at the time, he always gets there early.

"Hey Mark!" shouted his best friend, Roger. Well, he wasn't the only one is class anymore. Mark sighed.

"Hey Roger, what's up?" Mark asked, trying to perk up his voice.

"_Well_, there's word that we're gonna have a new kid in our class. I heard that he transferred from a performing arts school in some other state so he's supposed to be _really_ talented, but he got expelled for re-wiring all the fire alarms to go off and they couldn't be turned off for the _whole_ day and school was cancelled for a week because firefighters were destroying stuff in the school searching for a fire." Roger said excitedly.

"Sounds like someone _you'd _definitely get along with." said Mark, laughing.

"Well, we'll see." He replied. By now, a lot of the students were in the room, sitting in their designated seats. Roger went to his seat in the tenor section, while Mark stayed in the baritone section.

The teacher, Mr. Wood, came into the room with a student walking behind him. All of the kids in class stopped talking and looked at the teacher.

"Good morning class, I want to start by introducing a new student, Thomas Collins." He gestured to the new student, who had a grin on his face and stood with confidence.

"Hi." He said. The class just answered with feeble mumbles and groans.

"Oh c'mon class, you have to try to_ speak_ loud to _sing _loud, so speak loudly like you do when you're in the halls talking to your friends." Mr. Wood said. The mumbles and groans were at a higher volume, but there was still a tired and bored tone to it. Mr. Wood sighed. "Mr. Cohen, could you please pull up a chair for Mr. Collins to sit at?" Mark mumbled "sure" and got a chair from a stack and placed it next to his chair and the new guy sat.

"Hey, call me Collins." He said to Mark.

"Just Collins?" Mark asked.

"Yeah, my name's Tom, but I don't really like it, so just call me Collins." He replied. Mark shrugged.

"Sure. I'm Mark." Collins nodded and smiled, which made Mark smile back. He practically _radiated_ charisma and charm, which made Mark feel weird, so he looked away and paid attention to the teacher for the rest of the class.

* * *

When the bell rang, Mark picked up his stuff and hurriedly left the room. 

"Mark, wait up!" shouted Collins.

"Hey Collins." Mark replied.

"Uh, I was just wondering if I could see your schedule, if you have it." Collins said.

"Oh, sure." Mark replied, digging through his pockets. He hadn't looked at his schedule in months, but always kept it with him. He took a folded piece of paper out and gave it to Collins.

"Thanks." He took out his schedule and compared them. "Looks like we got Gym next." Collins said. "Can you show me where it is?" he asked.

"Yeah, just follow me, but this school is really big, so you have to be careful not to lose me in the crowd." There was a flood of students going up and down the halls, not caring if they bump into each other as long as they get to their destination and Mark and Collins was just a part of the traffic.

When they reached the boys' locker room, Collins went to the small office where the gym teachers were as Mark went to his locker. He carefully looked around and saw the other guys taking off their shirts and pants and putting on their gym clothes. Mark started to have a weird feeling in his stomach, like the feeling he got from Collins earlier.

"Mark?" he snapped out of it and saw Collins trying to talk to him.

"Oh, hey. What'd the teacher say to you?" he replied.

"He told me to pick a locker and put on gym clothes from the loaner closet." Collins replied, holding up a shirt and shorts. "So I'm picking this locker." He pointed at the one next to Mark's. "Great!" Mark said a little more happy and excited than he wanted to say. Mark put his binders and books in his small locker and tried to quickly put on his clothes.

After he closed his locker, Mark just stood up and walked around to the mirrors that were in the locker room, waiting for Collins to finish changing. He looked into a mirror in front of himself. He always thought that he looked skinny and weak and very pale, especially in his gym clothes. He could see Collins in the reflection of the mirror and saw him take off his shirt. _Damn, he's got abs. And muscles._ Mark thought to himself. He got nervous and could see himself turning slightly red and feel his palms sweat. He turned to Collins. "Um, Collins, I'm just gonna go to the gym and wait, if that's alright." He said. Collins shrugged.

"Sure." He replied.

Mark rushed to the gym and took a deep breath. _That was…weird._ He thought.

After a few minutes, the class assembled on the gym floor and Collins was introduced to the class and was sat next to Mark for last name alphabetical order. There were warm-ups and any make-ups or extra credit done afterwords like a regualr day. And then:

"Alright class, today we're gonna do the mile, then pull-ups and curl-ups. Remember to do your best because it's gonna be a big part of your grade." said the gym teacher. Mark, along with the whole class, groaned.

* * *

Next class was Biology for Collins. He had to go upstairs while Mark's next class was Algebra so he had to stay downstairs. 

When he entered the class, he was introduced to everyone as in the previous classes and was seated next to some guy who really looked liked a punk.

"Hey, I'm Roger, I saw you in chorus class, you were sitting with my friend, Mark." the guy said.

"Yeah…I remember you, and call me Collins." He said. There was a pause of awkward silence between them. The teacher was on the phone with someone, and everyone else in the class was talking.

"So…Collins, I heard you were kicked out of some performing arts school for a big prank that you did." Roger said, breaking the silence between them. He wanted to hear from Collins himself if the rumors were true. Collins smirked.

"Oh yeah, I rewired all of the fire alarms to go off, it was pretty cool. I got a lot of equipment from the techies in the theatre department; I was a bit high that day." Collins replied, proudly.

"Theatre? So, there must've been a lot of really hot girls, right?" Roger asked, coolly.

"I wouldn't notice, I'm gay." Collins, said, like it was the most casual thing you could say. Roger was taken aback a bit.

"You're gay?" He asked.

"Yeah…" Collins said, lifting an eyebrow and giving a slight glare at Roger. "You got a problem with that?" he asked, in a tone that made him seem a bit threatening. Roger shook his head.

"No, it's just that I don't really know many people who would admit to something like that that easily." He replied. Collins rolled his eyes when Roger said "something like that" Collins didn't really think that it was such a big deal.

"Well, I'm pretty confident with myself." he replied.

"Oh…okay." Roger never met someone who was gay before. He always thought they were extremely girly and had high-pitched voices and were really scrawney. But, Collins, he seems so cool, so reckless, so confident that he easily admits to being gay _and_ getting high without any second thought or a worry what people would think. He's the anti-everything that Roger had thought about gay people, and was someone that he and Mark could hang out with.

Mark. He was raised _so_ conservatively. He would probably _never _accept Collins. But still…

"Hey Collins, even though you're new, you think that you'd wanna hang out with me and Mark sometime?" Collins paused for a moment to think.

"Sure, sounds cool." He replied.

* * *

At this time in Algebra, Mark was sitting in his desk, regrettably thinking about Collins. He remembered all of Collins' very good scores in gym, especially since it was his first gym class. 7 minutes and 32 seconds for the mile, 11 pull-ups, and 82 curl-ups. He was really athletic, really talented…and really good looking. _What? Did I just think that Collins was good looking? _Mark rubbed his eyes and tried to clear his head. 

"Mark?" asked a loud, but young voice that was the Algebra teacher's Ms. Morris.

"Huh?" Mark asked a bit dazed. The students laughed. Mark forgot that he was actually supposed to be paying attention to the lesson.

"I asked you to answer the question on the board." she said, pointing to the lengthy algebra problem. Mark looked at the board for two seconds and knew the correct answer, easy math for him.

"Um, 29?" he asked.

"Correct, Mark, you seem a bit out it today, is something wrong?"

"No, um, I'm just a bit a tired today." Mark responded. It's a good thing he was smart. Ms. Morris raised an eyebrow, but continued with the lesson. Mark let out a silent sigh of relief, and tried to concentrate.

* * *

Okay, that's the first chapter. I have more that I'm working on, so please review if you want. 


	2. Struggle

It's been two weeks after meeting Collins, and Mark hasn't stopped thinking about him for more than a short amount of time. He was always happy to see Collins' smile, and likes talking to him, and just being in his presence, and that made Mark worried and confused about himself. He's has been trying to distance himself from Collins. Mark would rather feel this way about _any_ other girl, but despised himself for having these thoughts on a guy who also happened to be a close friend. Plus, he's been having some tough time concentrating on school. Even though he was smart enough to get good grades even when he didn't know the material too well, practically all of his "notes" consisted of him writing the words "you're not gay" in his notebook over and over in least three pages of his notebook.

He's in his room right now, it's 4:00 PM and he's just finished his homework.

The phone rang, but he didn't feel like answering, he was consumed with just trying to keep his mind off of everything.

"Mark!" shouted his mom from downstairs. "Phone call for you! It's Roger!" Mark sighed and grabbed the phone next to his bed and sat against the wall.

"Hello? Roger?"

"Hey Mark, do you wanna hang out with me and Collins at my house?" Roger asked, cheerfully. Mark paused. He didn't want to see Collins.

"Um…what would we do?" Mark asked, trying to think of a good excuse to get out of hanging out with them.

"I don't know, just hang out." he contemplated it; he still didn't want to see Collins.

"Uh…sorry Roger, I can't, my mom says I gotta…clean my room, and you know how much a pain in the ass my mom can be when I don't do what she says." He replied, hoping that's a good enough to get him out of it.

"Oh c'mon, you have to clean your room? That's so _gay_." Mark froze. _That's so gay_. A splurge of anger coursed through his body for a second from that comment, and Mark just wanted to shout and argue that he _wasn't_ gay, but he tried to sustain himself from doing so.

"Well, I have to, sorry. Maybe I can come over some other time. See ya." Mark quickly said, then sprawled out on his bed, and let out a deep breath. He hated that he was getting worked up about something that he didn't want to think about. He looked around his room, it _was_ getting messy. Maybe it was a good time to start cleaning it before his mom _really_ scolds him about it, and he'd already told Roger he was going to, so he might as well.

There were a lot of places he could begin at, but he decided to start from under the bed. He was hoping that the tedious work would clear his head. He pulled out a dirty sock, an old board game, a dead mouse…

"Ah!" Mark shouted, dropping the dead mouse on the floor. "Ewww…" he stated, and kicked it to the trash can in his room, a bit disgusted.

He carefully looked under the bed this time and started picking from it, and pulled out something he hasn't seen in years.

It was a very old Bolex camera. He received it as a gift one birthday, but never got any momentum to use it. There was a full roll of film in it, and it was in good condition. Mark _was_ bored, and he hasn't gone outside in a while, it was a very nice day. He hurried downstairs.

"Mom, I'm gonna go outside, alright?" Mark asked, already putting his shoes on.

"Okay dear, but he careful." His mom warned. Mark rolled his eyes.

"Yes, mom, love you." He said, as he exited.

* * *

Mark never knew how much fun filming could be. It seemed like every bird and rabbit and insect were moving just in the right places, the wind blew just at the right times, the clouds were in just the right shapes, it couldn't be more perfect. Everything that he was worried about and everything he was struggling with was escaping from his mind and he was enthralled by the way the world looked different to him through the camera lens. 

"Mark!" he snapped out of it at the voice of his mom calling from the front door of the house. "Mark, would you come in right now? It's dinner time and you've been out here for over two hours." Two hours? It seems like hardly five minutes; he hasn't had this much fun in so long

"Coming!" he shouted, coming in with his camera and a joyous smile on his face that was rare nowadays.

* * *

Meanwhile, Collins was in his room trying to remember what his algebra homework was that he forgot to write down. He was getting frustrated because he knew that part of the assignment was an important grade and needed to finish it. He couldn't call Roger. He had just come back from his house, so that would'nt be a good idea to bother him again. 

_I wish I had time to get to know smart people who could help me._ He thought to himself. A thought occurred in his head instantly. _Mark's smart. Real smart. I could ask him about the homework. _ He thought.

He took a slip of paper from the top of his desk that had Mark's phone number on it and dialed.

"Hello?" asked Mark on the other line after two rings.

"Hey Mark, it's Collins." He replied.

"Oh...hey Collins, what's up?" Mark said, trying to hide the hesitance in his voice. He had nearly forgotten his Collins-problem when he was filming outside, but now the old nervous feelings in his stomach had come back.

"Did you get the algebra homework today? Cause I didn't write it down and I need it." Mark was almost not paying attention to what Collins was asking, he was just paying attention to his deep, soothing voice. He could feel himself blush already. _No, don't think about that..._ he mentally said to himself. "Mark…?" Collins asked. Mark realized that he had frozen in thought and forgot that he was on the phone.

"Huh?" he snapped back into the conversation. "I'm sorry, I'm…just tired." He said, that was always his excuse when he didn't want people to think something is wrong. "I was just outside for a long time doind yard stuff." Mark was never too creative when lying.

"Oh, okay…so do you know the homework?" Collins asked.

"Uh, yeah, hold on." Mark said, putting down the phone on his bed. He smacked himself on the forehead. "Ugh, you idiot, just stop, you _don't_ like him." He whispered to himself, verbally trying to convince himself of something that he consciously knew was not true. He quickly searched through his binder for the information Collins needed and tried not to take too long and be suspicious. "Collins?" he said in the phone, making sure he was still there.

"Yeah?"

"It's page 289 in the textbook, all of it, and the purple algebra vocab worksheet for the big test tomorrow." Mark said, trying to even out his voice.

"Okay, thanks. See ya tomorrow."

"No problem, bye." Mark quickly said and hung up. He let out a breath of frustration and practically slammed his forehead on his desk. "What is _wrong _with me?" he asked to himself.

* * *

Alright, second chapter done. Working and editing the third as well. Lemme know if there's anything you like or don't like or even suggestions for the story if you want to review. 


	3. Hesitate

Mark was in the chorus room, waiting for everyone to come in once again. He had his camera in his hands; he's been obsessed with it ever since he found it. All of his focus was on thinking of ideas for a movie or a documentary, or just anything interesting he can film. As he saw students coming into class, he held up his camera and pointed in their direction.

"Um, it's, March 3rd, 1978...7:20 AM, uh, New York Time, no…Eastern Standard Time and…hmm…" he stopped filming. He was starting to have problems trying to get his words perfectly. When he first used the camera, the words flowed right out of his mouth, but now, when there's a bunch of people around to film, the words were stuck. He started the camera again, but decided to refrain from narration.

He panned around the large chorus room. Every girl who saw him filming waved or blew kisses at the screen, and every guy stuck out their tongues or gave Mark the finger, laughing. Except for one guy.

"Collins…" Mark said, unknowingly. He filmed Collins as he was walking towards him, smiling, which made Mark smile back. He was glad that the camera hid a lot of his face so that no one would see him.

"Hey, Mark!" shouted Collins.

"Hey…" the boy with the camera replied sheepishly.

"What's that?" Collins asked. Mark immediately became more confident his face perked up and he sat up straight.

"This is my new camera. Well, it's a really old camera, but I found under my bed recently and I've been trying it out. Cool, huh?" He hasn't talked to Collins with self-assurance like that in a long time.

"Cool…so are you gonna make movies with it and become a famous director?" Mark couldn't help but feel overjoyed at Collins' interest in the camera.

"Well, so far I've just filmed my neighborhood and a little bit here. But, I'll figure out something to do with the footage." Mark pointed the camera at Collins. "Smile." Collins laughed and gave a smile and once again, Mark smiled along with him. _He could make the whole world smile with just a grin if he wanted to._ Mark thought. He then paused. He was starting to think about Collins in…_that way_ again, as he put it. Instantly, those feelings of insecurity and dismay caught up with him and he became the meek dork he felt he was destined to always be. Soon after, chorus class began and practically instantly flew by.

* * *

"Yeah, I was thinking that I could do a documentary of some kind. I think it would be really interesting." Mark said to Collins as they were walking to Gym. Roger tagged along to, cause his locker was on the way. 

"What kind of documentary?" asked Roger. Mark shrugged.

"Don't know, but it's gonna be about something important." He replied. They went to a small hallway where a row of lockers was, one of which happened to be Roger's. Mark cranked up his camera while Roger put in his combination. Collins went ahead to gym to get there a bit early.

Mark saw three guys come towards him and Roger and started to film them out of instinct. They seemed interesting; they were tall and looked agitated and intimidating and walked like they owned everything. Definitely seniors. One of them saw Mark filming and stopped.

"What do you think you're doing, punk?" he snarled. Mark stopped filming and cowered, closing his eyes tightly as he held on to his camera and binders. He could hear those seniors laugh at him and then felt his camera being snatched away, even with his firm grip on it; it was taken out of his hands easily.

"What's _this_?" one of the others asked as he held up Mark's camera.

"Give it back, don't drop it!" Mark shouted without realizing it. They started tossing it around to each other. Mark watched them throw his precious camera around, praying that they wouldn't drop it, and after a while, he couldn't help but try to jump for it. The older boys just laughed and waved the camera in his face. One of them even pushed him against the lockers. That's when Roger reacted.

"Hey, quit it, guys." Roger said. He was a bit shorter than the guy who pushed Mark, but didn't let that faze him. "Just give him back the camera, alright?" The guy who was holding it laughed and pushed Roger back hard and he was slammed at the lockers. The other two laughed. Roger roughly pushed back. The three seniors then had clearly displeased faces. The camera was pushed back into Mark's hands, but the three ganged up on Roger. They started hitting him and pushing him and laughing at him. Mark put down the camera and his binders and tried to help Roger, but the seniors began to beat him up too. Within minutes, people just walking in halls around them could hear screams and loud banging noises and a crowd started to form in the compact hallway. It was a shame that no one tried to help or do anything except cheer and encourage to keep the fight going.

"What is going on here!" yelled the principal, who like the students, heard the noises and rushed over. He blew a whistle that he always had around his neck and the crowd of roused up students quickly ran away. The seniors still continued to hit Mark and Roger even after the whistle blew, resulting in the principal having to call the police and had the seniors handcuffed and taken away.

* * *

"Thanks a lot, Roger. This is _just _what I need on my permanent record." said Mark, spitefully as he pushed a mop back and forth on the floor. After Mark and Roger's incident with those other guys, they were forced to clean up the school after-hours. Roger was wiping the many windows that were around the hallway they were in."Mark, it's not like we got sent to the police station like those stupid shitheads who messed with us in the first place." replied Roger. "Besides, we're only doing this for a week." 

"Do you realize how angry my parents are gonna be at me? They could ground me, or never let me get a driver's license, or take away my camera, or-"

"Ugh, _shut up_, Mark, I'm sure nothing too bad is gonna happen to you, quit being so gay." Roger said. Mark stopped mopping and took in a deep breath.

"Would you just quit it with the 'gay' thing, already?"

"Pffh, why?" Roger replied. Mark tried to keep his voice steady and calm.

"Just…quit it."

"Why?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"It's nothing, Roger."

"What, do you think you're _gay_?"

"_No_." he replied, loudly. He gripped the mop handle. This was not the time, but could there ever be a time for something this? Roger gave a grin at the chance to joke around.

"I think you do." he said, snidely.

"I'm not." Mark said, still trying not to overreact. He kept his teeth clasped together and tried to restrain from yelling.

"Mark is a _faggot_, Mark is a _faggot,_" sang Roger, continuing his teasing.

"I'm _not_, Roger."

"Hey, Mark, ever think about not being a _homo_?" Roger was practically spitting out the words and lightly poked Mark, who threw down his mop and grabbed Roger by his jacket and even lifted him up a little bit.

"Would you just fucking _shut up_, Roger? I'm _not!_" Mark shouted, he then pushed Roger back and picked up the mop, trying to regain his composure. He breathed in and out deeply, in order to prevent himself from crying in anguish and frustration.

Roger was very surprised and briefly scared by his best friend's outburst towards him and suddenly felt resentment for his words.

"Jesus, Mark, _sorry_…I was joking, I didn't know you were like, serious." Mark didn't respond. He walked away with his mop and continued pushing it back and forth on the floor. Roger followed and thought for a minute. _What's up with him? He's been acting so weird for weeks…ever since Collins came to school…hmm…_ Roger found his idea odd, but it would make sense.

"Hey…this doesn't have anything to do with Collins, does it?"

"…Why do you think that?" Mark suddenly felt nervous again and paused. _How does he know?_ He thought.

"_Well_, it's just that ever since he showed up, you've been…different. Like, nervous and jittery and like, frozen sometimes, you know?" Mark didn't say anything. "I mean, it's just what I've seen when you're around him, and it's not like I have a problem with it or anything, but…do you have a thing for Collins?" Mark just stared at his friend with looks of discomfort, then quickly looked away and sighed.

"…No, I don't." he replied, after a while in a low, almost threatening voice. Roger raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever…" He replied. They stopped talking for the rest of the day after that.

* * *

"Hey Collins?" asked Roger the next day. He and Collins were in English, not particularly doing anything while the teacher was at the front of the room, at her desk looking for quiz papers. 

"Hm?" Collins replied. He was doing Algebra homework while waiting for the English quiz.

"What do you think about Mark?" Ever since yesterday, Roger has been wondering about what Mark and Collins thought of each other because of Mark's strange reaction to the "do you like him" question.

"Mark? What about him?" Collins was a bit curious and confused about why Roger is asking about the smallish boy.

"I don't know, just what do you think of him?" Collins thought for a while, then smiled. He had started to really like the scrawny new filmmaker over the past couple of weeks and was definitely not afraid to admit it, or anything else for that matter.

"I like him a lot." He replied, very casually, not looking up from his homework.

"Really…_Why_?" Roger didn't expect that answer from Collins. Once again, he was amazed at his relaxed, informal answer to the most controversial of questions. "He's the last person I would think _anyone_ would like."

"Then why do _you_ hang out with him?" Collins asked and looked up at Roger.

"…I don't know, I just do."

"Yeah, same with me. Well, I also happen to think that he's smart and cute and isn't afraid to do a nice thing once in a while." Collins said. Roger rolled his eyes. _That's such a gay thing to say._ He thought.

"Alright class, I have the grammar quiz ready for you, so do well, this is a big part of your quiz grade." said the teacher. The class groaned.

* * *

Mark was having a terrible time in his world history class. This was probably the worst unit he ever had to endure because of its timing in Mark's time of crisis. 

"So, everyone, early man and modern man have the same genus, which is the genus _homo_." said the teacher, Ms. Lessots. Mark cringed. _Why do we have to learn this lesson today?_ He thought. "There's _Homo_ habilis, _Homo_ erectus, and _Homo_ sapiens, which is what we are. And since we are all humans, we are all _homos_." Everyone in the class burst out laughing, even Mark gave a little chuckle, but then the realization came to him that people were laughing at something that he fears he is, so he became silent once again, lost in his thoughts.

"Mark?" whispered the teacher. She was right in front of him, handing out tests on last week's unit. Everyone else in the room was writing on them. He must've spaced out after the roars of laughter.

"Uh, yes?" Mark hastily replied.

"When you finish the test, could you please come to the front of the room?"

"Why? Am I in trouble?" Mark got nervous, he didn't want to be in even more trouble than he got into yesterday.

"No, I just need you to come to my desk when you're finsihed." Mark nodded and Ms. Lessots walked away. Mark sighed and worked on the test. Very simple questions to him, he finished it in just half an hour, while everyone else would probably take another hour to finish. But he hesitated to take it to Ms. Lessots, cause he was afraid of what she had to say to him, but after ten minutes of worrying, he went up to her desk, he could feel his hands and knees shaking a bit his palms starting to sweat and his feet starting to turn cold.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Mark whispered as he handed the test papers to his teacher.

"Yes, Mark. I just want to give you this." She opened a drawer in her desk and took out a small, yellow piece of paper and handed it to him. It read: _Hall Pass to Counselor_. "I knew you were going to finish before everyone else so I would like you to go to your counselor's office. He'll tell you everything, okay?" Mark nodded.

"Okay..." Mark was really worrying right now. He left the room quietly and walked down the seemingly long hallways that were empty and still.

* * *

"Ah, Mark, come in." said the counselor, Mr. Howard. He gestured Mark to sit down in a small chair across his long desk. "How are you?" he asked. His voice was calm and attentive, something that anyone would imagine a counselor's voice would sound like. 

"I'm good…but I don't know why I'm here." Mark replied. He had his camera in his hands and was holding on to it tightly, but tried not to lose grip of it because of his palms that were beginning to sweat.

"Well, it's about your performance in your classes lately. Your teachers have informed me that you've been having problems paying attention and that though your test and quiz grades are great, your homework has been inconsistent for a few weeks now, so I'm wondering, is there something wrong? I know that you're a very good student, so there has to be something that's caused this." asked Mr. Howard. Mark didn't know how to reply. _Oh no, nothing's wrong, I just think that I'm gay and I might have a crush on a guy who happens to be one of my best friends and I'm becoming insane because of it!_ Mark's mind practically screamed out.

"Well, ort of, but it's personal." He finally answered, quietly. Mr. Howard nodded.

"Mark, whatever you want to tell me will be confidential, you don't have to worry. Nothing will leave this office." His words were convincing, but Mark didn't want to admit anything out loud.

"Sorry, but I can't. I just wanna keep it to myself for now." Mr. Howard sighed.

"Alright, if that's what you want, but I'm still concerned. I don't want you to leave without giving you someone to talk to. Hold on." Mr. Howard took a card from a small basket near the edge on his desk and handed it to Mark. "Here. I really recommend that you call. It's very good for teenagers who don't want to speak to anyone face-to-face about their problems." Mark looked down at the card.

"New York Teen Hotline..." Mark said aloud. He's heard of things like these but never thought about or considered them.

"Now, I want you to call that number by Friday, alright? I'm going to have you come in this office every week for the next month so that you can tell me how everything is going. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, that's fine. Can I go now?"

"Of course. Have a nice day."

"Thanks, you too." Mark walked out the door and put the card in his pocket. He walked in the halls for a few moments then scanned the area to make sure no one was watching . He cranked up his camera and began to film himself.

"Okay…March 4th…1978, 10:36 AM, um…Eastern Standard Time. I just got back from the counselor's office and just got a phone number for a Teen Hotline thing. Pffh, like anyone would want to even _talk_ to someone with _my_ problem." He turned off his camera after that and hurried back to his classroom.

* * *

Alright, Chapter 3 is up. Review if you want and tell me what you think. 


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